


where the sea sleeps

by subsequence (precedence)



Series: we may stumble, or topple [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (i'm gonna give it to you straight folks), (rated m for heavy subject matter), (this gets sad), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst, Depression, End of the World, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Relationship(s), Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29061777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/precedence/pseuds/subsequence
Summary: "He’s not my problem, anymore," says Renjun. "He hasn’t been, for a while.”"Does he know that?" Taeyong asks. "If you can tell me right now that he knows that, then I’ll never call you to come pick him up again.”Renjun hears the undertone of it,Is that what you want?In which, it's the end of the world, and Renjun doesn't love Jaemin anymore.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Series: we may stumble, or topple [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133645
Kudos: 16





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **TRIGGER WARNINGS:**
> 
> general: apocalypse, end of the world, existential crises, contemplation of death in general, suicidal thoughts, alcoholism, implied main character death (but not really)  
> relationship-wise: good relationships turned unhealthy/toxic, breaking up, giving up
> 
> all around, i think i put it across in a lighter manner than it seems, but the warnings are definitely worth putting up. 
> 
> i don't know what drove me to this, folks, but for what it's worth, i think this is some of the best stuff i've written. i hope you like this!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But the truth of the matter is this — in the months leading up to the end of the world, Jaemin became a beacon of light in Renjun’s life, and Renjun… he couldn’t even have begun to pretend that he hated it.

There had been nothing beautiful about the end of the world. Not as far as Renjun remembers, at least.

If the poets had known, and had been told to look up at the moment of the impact, they might have found a harsh sort of beauty in how the sky was torn apart by nuclear strikes.

Hell, if Renjun himself had been above ground, perhaps, he might have looked wondrously at the colours of the explosions, colours his hands would have ached to paint. He imagines it must have been a sight never before seen, the world collapsing in on itself.

But he hadn’t been above ground, so at the end of the day, all Renjun can do is imagine. Because when the strikes hit the Earth's atmosphere, Renjun had been a thousand feet below sea-level, cowering in a bunker that was far too large, holding far too little people.

With four figures trembling around him, the only thing that had stopped him from giving up and dropping dead, right there and then, was the single-minded goal of protecting the people who were precious to him — at the very least, the few of them within reach.

And maybe, selfishly, there was just a bit more to it. As his knees had quivered, and his heart had threatened to stop for a moment, the only thing that kept Renjun grounded was the solid arm wrapped firmly around him, gripping protectively at his waist.

For what he thought would be the last few moments of his life, and everyone else’s, he had selfishly leaned into that embrace, and borrowed strength from someone who didn’t have much to give in the first place.

Jaemin had always given, though. Despite having little for himself, he had always given endlessly.

Renjun remembers his smile, addictive and irresistible as he’d been sprawled out under the sun on a hot summer day, resting his head on Renjun’s lap, months before the strikes landed. “Just take, Renjun-ah,” he had said, brown eyes blinking up at Renjun. “I have no qualms about being drained dry of everything I have, if it’s you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Renjun had told him, before he’d leaned down to kiss the easy grin off Jaemin’s face.

Yet, in that bunker, it was Renjun who had taken, selfishly. Maybe it’s always been him who was the problem.

But it’s so much easier to be angry at Jaemin, now, when he’s a shell of who he used to be. When he stares into the sunset with empty bottles of liquor at his feet, with Renjun sitting five feet away and crying his heart out.

It’s also much easier to blame the Jaemin of before, who had turned his entire life on its head, all those months ago, back when Renjun had first started hearing things on the news.

Things like, scientists at KSA and NASA making groundbreaking discoveries about aliens, then protesting against their superiors for covering up those discoveries. He’d been interested in that sort of thing, back then — reading papers published decades ago, probing the corners of obscure forums for scraps of information, meeting up with strangers online to discuss theories.

He remembers doing things like that, right up until his time had been occupied by Jaemin and Jaemin alone.

But the truth of the matter is this — in the months leading up to the end of the world, Jaemin became a beacon of light in Renjun’s life, and Renjun… he couldn’t even have begun to pretend that he hated it.


	2. ~then~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a garden of flowers blooming within his chest, the sweetness of them utterly intoxicating.

High school is a strange place. Namely, the fact that Renjun’s short and pretty seems to have no effect on the fact that everyone is terrified of him. And sure, on some days, it’s enjoyable. But on other days, it’s a nuisance, because people like Jaemin seem to have made a habit of challenging the status quo at Renjun’s expense.

It starts out as something harmless — admittedly, Jaemin didn’t instigate much of it. They get partnered together on a Biology project at the beginning of the junior year, during that awkward phase where no one seems to know anyone else in their classes, except for the popular people whom everyone knows.

Jaemin is one of these people, which is why Renjun knows that Jaemin, for all his effortless charm and serial dating habits, is one of their level’s top students. Because of this, he’s not too bothered by the fact that they’re paired up. Group projects are a pain, but a competent partner — nevermind that he’s a popular one — makes them less of a hassle.

When the groupings are released, Renjun begins to gather his things so he can drag his chair over by the time Jaemin finishes telling his friends and suitors alike (Renjun wonders if there’s a difference), _oh no, it’s a shame that we can’t work together, maybe next time?_

Renjun is ready to take his time, expecting this to carry on for a good five minutes, which is why he’s mildly surprised when Jaemin brushes off his entourage with a good-natured smile, and heads right over to Renjun.

“Huang Renjun?” He holds out a hand to shake. Renjun stares at it, then looks back up at Jaemin, unimpressed. To his credit, Jaemin remains unperturbed. “I don’t think we’ve actually talked before this, so I thought it’d be good to introduce ourselves properly, but I’m guessing you’re not big on that.” He draws his hand back, smoother than Renjun himself could have managed. It pisses him off to no end.

“Funny how we haven’t talked, don’t you think?” Renjun asks loftily, just to be a little shit. Sometimes, it’s the only way he knows how to talk to strangers, but with Na Jaemin, it’s an intentional move. “After all, it’s junior year, already.”

“Well, there are five hundred of us in the cohort, Huang,” Jaemin counters lazily.

“And I’m sure there are tons of them you haven’t gotten to know yet,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his worksheet to analyse the assignment they’ve been given. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Jaemin shrugs.

“Yeah, well, not all of them are you.”

Something about this catches Renjun off-guard. “Oh? Does Na Jaemin, extrovert supreme, get scared off by a bunch of rumours?”

He’s not supposed to let the banter carry on for this long. It’s a mistake on his part — now he looks too interested. By the looks of his smile, Jaemin knows this, too.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have been,” Jaemin says, pulling his chair a bit closer to Renjun, enough to just slightly intrude Renjun’s personal space. “You’re surprisingly easy to talk to. Or is that not a common occurrence?”

He has to know that it isn’t. “It could have been,” Renjun says instead, “But there were never any opportunities to test that theory out, so unless you want everyone asking you questions, I guess this’ll have to remain between us.”

Jaemin smiles widens, from something Renjun now realises was carefully crafted, into something that’s unguarded and utterly beatific. “You know, I quite like the sound of that.”

This is how it begins. Light years outside the hemisphere, an entire race finalises their plans to annihilate the Earth. In the back of a classroom, within the bubble of their high school situated in an unremarkable district of Seoul, Na Jaemin carves out his own little place in Renjun’s life.

Naturally, Renjun runs.

* * *

Even before they officially met, Na Jaemin was the kind of person who seemed to be everywhere.

Except, before, he was more of a constant in Renjun’s periphery, as Renjun walked through the hallways with his eyes trained on his phone, or zoned out in classes he really doesn’t give a damn about.

But now, he’s at the centre of Renjun’s attention every time he pops up somewhere near, which is… all the time.

The thing is, Jaemin seems to be actively trying to talk to him, which to be entirely honest, is equal parts pleasing and unnerving.

It leaves Renjun wondering, idiotically, whether it only boils down to the fact that their first discussion in the lab that day had gone surprisingly well.

* * *

Though Renjun is aware that Jaemin is intelligent and a good partner for classwork, the nervous hum in the pit of his stomach appears as it always does when he’s given an assignment. As they bounce ideas back and forth, though, Jaemin’s swift outlining of the procedures and their timeline quietens it into a pleasing calm.

And he’s fun to talk to, the pace of their conversation flowing quick, even if they’re talking about a subject that they both seem to hate.

“Are you sure you want to do the dilution part?” Renjun asks, as he reviews their outline on last time, twirling a pencil between his fingers. “It’s not difficult at all, but it’s a hassle, and we’re going to have to get the micropipettes from the Chem lab. I hate dealing with Mr Kim.”

“You know, he’s alright,” Jaemins says, teasing, “You just can’t resist picking fights with him every time the opportunity arises.”

Well, this, Renjun can’t deny. “Don’t you think he- wait. How do you know I pick fights with him on the regular?”

Jaemin raises a perfect eyebrow. “We had Chem together, back in freshman year? I’m offended that you don’t remember.”

“I don’t pay attention to anyone, don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, I absolutely will,” Jaemin sighs, “Here I was, hanging onto each of your mumbled snipes at Mr Kim, and you didn’t even notice I was there.”

Blood rushes to Renjun’s ears at the implication of this. Thankfully- or perhaps, not so thankfully, Jaemin saves him from responding. “But, hey,” he says, “We’ve had good chemistry together since day one, hm?”

And Renjun doesn’t watch him often enough to know for sure, but he thinks that the sleazy grin on Jaemin’s face might be less perfect than the sleek ones he gives to the people who flirt with him, first, and that the way he lowers his voice is significantly less attractive than the charming, deep tone he takes up at other times.

Yet, it’s absolutely dizzying. There’s been a stirring feeling in Renjun’s chest since Jaemin came over. Now, it seems to unfurl. A single flower blooming within him.

He crushes the thought, the flower, and the ridiculous flurry of feelings that have risen inside of him. To Jaemin, he says, “Less flirting, more working, Na,” and, well, that’s that.

* * *

Since that first day, Jaemin has taken it upon himself to strike up a conversation with Renjun whenever possible, but Renjun doesn’t exactly make it easy for him.

He makes a habit of ducking behind open locker doors when Jaemin passes him by in school. (Renjun’s never met with any resistance, either — even the couple passionately eating each other’s faces jump apart when they realise it’s him who’s disturbing their make out session. Like he said, perks of having a terrifying reputation.)

It helps a lot that Jaemin’s group of friends is incredibly loud, too.

There’s Lee Donghyuck, who’s clinched the emcee spot for every non-official school event since he was a freshman. He’s possibly the most popular student in their school, but he’s genuinely so nice when he’s not being obnoxiously loud that Renjun can’t even dislike him too much.

Then there’s also Lee Jeno, famed for his easy-going nature and killer eye-smile. Renjun honestly doesn’t have a strong enough opinion of him, but he takes it upon himself to dislike anyone who’s that good-looking.

They’ve adopted a freshman, Park Jisung, into their group, too, though he towers over the rest and generally seems to have the sole modicum of shame among them. He hunches over as he walks alongside them, and Renjun finds himself taking pity on him.

And of course, there’s Jaemin, whom Renjun doesn’t know what to think of.

There’s Jaemin, who waves erratically at Renjun when Renjun accidentally makes eye contact with him, not having ducked out of the way fast enough. There’s Jaemin, who calls out, “Hi, Renjun!” from across the cafeteria.

There’s Jaemin, who pouts at him as they meet in Bio again, three days later, Renjun’s face burning uncharacteristically with shame. “Don’t even start with me, Na,” Renjun hisses, slamming his textbook on the desk and dropping exhaustedly onto his seat.

Jaemin’s pout only deepens. “Why shouldn’t I? You’ve been ignoring me all week, and here I was, thinking that I made a good first impression!”

“Okay, first of all,” Renjun holds up an accusatory finger, “It’s only been three days, don’t be dramatic. Second of all, it’s incredibly arrogant of you to assume you made a good first impression, just like that. Don’t be the entitled white boy everyone thinks you are, Na.”

“Renjun-ssi, we are in Seoul,” Jaemin says, through an admittedly impressive mock mask of calm for someone as hyper as him, “That doesn’t even make any sense. And, more importantly,” his grin takes on that excessive, unrefined flirty edge that Renjun is still not used to, “How well-acquainted are you with what people seem to think about me?”

Because Renjun doesn’t like losing, and doesn’t like the way Jaemin beats him at his own game constantly, he becomes impulsive. 

“Fairly well, I’d think,” he says, and turns to his worksheet. The rest of the lesson is spent on admiring the brilliant red of Jaemin’s ears, and the pretty rose blush to the apples of his cheeks as he grins widely throughout the hour.

That, combined with the rush of adrenaline to his head, makes Renjun see the appeal in the way Na Jaemin has taken his typical habit of squabbling with people he likes talking to, and turned it into a game of flirting.

By the end of the lesson, Jaemin has regained some of his composure, and waves Renjun goodbye as he joins his friends at the door. As Renjun crosses past them, he commits his second impulsive act of the day, and winks in response.

It’s deliciously worth it, to hear the bark of laughter Lee Donghyuck lets out as Jaemin flushes that addictive red once more.

But when they cross paths in the hallways after that, Jaemin looks content with the way Renjun no longer tries to hide from him, which leaves Renjun wondering which one of them has truly won in this game.

* * *

Two weeks pass by, and school has occupied his mind entirely — specifically, his Bio assignment, and the boy he’s partnering with for it. So much so that Renjun hadn’t even realised, but his parents begin to come home later and later in the night.

It’s nearly 10pm on a Tuesday night as Renjun’s wrapping up his homework, when the doorbell rings. He hurries to get the door, and lets his parents in. His mother can barely stand, and is leaning heavily against his father, who looks exhausted but not nearly as sleep-deprived as she does.

Renjun helps him get her into bed, and insists on leading his father downstairs for supper. It’s a stressful topic for the both of them, but he broaches it, anyway. “Dad,” he says, gently, “It’s ten at night, now. You both left at two in the morning, don’t think I didn’t know. Isn’t this getting kind of ridiculous? Is there nothing you can do?”

His dad shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s complicated, kiddo. It’s not exactly like your mother and I are being held back for overtime work, we’re technically going back on our own, it’s just that…”

Renjun sucks in a breath. He knows his parents have been working on something important, the both of them aerospace engineers at the Korean Space Administration. For the past few years, something has been increasingly taking up their time. But they’re weighed down both by their feelings of responsibility as his parents, and by numerous NDAs, so they’ve never told him about what exactly they’re researching.

“We’ve made a historic breakthrough, Renjun,” his dad decides on telling him. He’s thrumming with a nervous energy, but his eyes are brighter and happier than Renjun has seen in a long time. “We think it’ll be historic, anyway. Not just me and your mum, of course, but the entire team of us. And the people we’re working with at NASA, and a lot of other facilities around the world- the point is, we’re on the cusp of something that could bring about the next mass transformation of the Earth.”

When Renjun was younger, and often asked his father why he’d become a researcher, his father would never hesitate to say, _So that I can build a better world for you, Renjun-ah. A world filled with amazing possibilities. Look up at the sky. Wouldn’t you like to go up to say hello?_ _  
__  
_Undoubtedly, it was one of the formative reasons for this vague, hopeful perception of the future in Renjun’s mind, now buried under years worth of built-up teenage cynicism.

Tonight, there’s so much hope brimming in his father’s voice, that Renjun lets himself believe him without a doubt, just like he used to.

(And maybe there’s a bit more to it, too. It’s stupid, really, to base the uncertain future on even more uncertain assumptions or hopes, but these things are out of Renjun’s control, and the best he can do is to acknowledge his thoughts.

Which are that, while neither the present, nor the future has ever seemed particularly bright to Renjun, there have been small things, lately. The smallest things over the past couple of weeks, that inexplicably and imperceptibly make his life brighter. 

An imperfect grin directed towards him, a nudge at his shoulder as a greeting.

And Renjun knows enough about himself to know this — he’s only ever needed the smallest of things to find happiness in.

In the distance, there is a future that seems bright as it does looming. Full of possibilities built upon hopes that will likely be crushed as easy as flowers beneath his feet. But with every look Na Jaemin casts his way, by chance or choice, a new bud blooms in his chest, and Renjun thinks that he’s okay with this.

As he helps his dad into bed, he decides that he’s okay with believing in things that won’t lead anywhere if they bring him so much warmth, now.

There are not enough warning blares in his mind to make him realise how dangerous it is that Na Jaemin, with just a few words and that smile of his, has turned Renjun’s world on its axis, entirely.

Then again, maybe Renjun has never been as strong or as fierce as the rumours make him out to be. And maybe it’s only Jaemin who’s somehow beginning to figure that out.)

* * *

Jaemin must also have figured this out — that Renjun is slowly coming to terms with the fact that he’d indulge Jaemin anything.

“So, here’s my latest thought,” Jaemin starts, in lieu of his typical greeting of a nudge and a sweet smile, “The apocalypse.”

Renjun smiles wryly, praying that the fondness he feels in that moment isn’t too evident. “I hate to break it to you, Na,” he says, trying to pack more of a playful bite behind the words, “But you’re about several thousand years too late to come up with that one. Humans were apparently born with the inherent fear of death, because apocalyptic myths have existed since the beginning of time.”

“Thank you for the information, Mister History Lecturer,” Jaemin frowns at him, “But that’s not what I meant. Specifically, zombie apocalypses.”

“The Walking Dead-”

“Fuck off, I’m not saying I invented them! You’re impossible,” Jaemin grumbles. Renjun thinks he mustn’t be aware that he’s pouting at all, and it’s mind-blowingly adorable that Renjun is in half a mind not to apologise.

He does it, anyway, because a smiling Jaemin is infinitely more radiant than a pouting one, as cute as he is. “I’m sorry,” he says, far too gently, but not capable enough of caring, “Go on. What about the zombie apocalypse?”

Lifting his head, Jaemin squints suspiciously at him. When Renjun raises a questioning eyebrow, he nods, as though sufficiently reassured that Renjun is sincere. “As I was saying, before I was rudely, interrupted, the zombie apocalypse is imminent.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t antagonise me, Huang.”

“I literally didn’t even say anything to antagonise you!”

“You don’t have to,” Jaemin elbows him in the ribs, “It’s written all over your face that you’re judging me. You’re too easy to read, you know.”

Renjun thinks, _if that were true, you wouldn’t smile half as warmly at me as you are, even now._

Out loud, he says, “My apologies, Jaemin-ssi. Consider the fact that I’m just not looking forward to an hour of Bio, but you must also know that the company is what keeps me from skipping this class entirely.”

Jaemin flushes, as he still does when Renjun returns his bouts of flirting from time to time, but he gathers his wits fairly quickly, this time. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

“Apology accepted,” Jaemin nods seriously, before he finally drops the straight face and breaks into that beautiful smile. “Hey, if we all suddenly started turning into zombies, do you think you’d survive?”

“Undoubtedly,” Renjun shrugs, “I’m the survivor-type, isn’t it obvious? But you’d die within the first day, Na.”

“I won’t disagree,” Jaemin says, “But you’d protect me, wouldn’t you?”

The ease to which he says takes Renjun’s breath away, just slightly. There is a garden of flowers blooming within his chest, the sweetness of them utterly intoxicating.

* * *

Renjun thinks that they must tentatively be walking the line between acquaintances and friends.

Jaemin continues waving to him in the hallways, and at the cafeteria, but never takes it further. There are days when this ugly thing in the depths of Renjun’s mind gets angry, and makes him wonder why Jaemin acts carefree and flirty with him in class in a way that Renjun hasn't seen him do with other people, when Renjun's just going to go be pushed into this painful grey area of being a casual acquaintance, outside that classroom.

More rationally, he wonders if he's being delusional, reading too much into Jaemin's friendly gestures that he might be directing towards anyone else in relatively personal settings. Renjun would be okay with that, honestly, if Jaemin would quit acting like they're just, vaguely aware of each other's existence.

* * *

"Hey, Renjun," greets Jaemin quietly, as he walks to class with his friends, the group of them kicking up a racket like they usually do. The latter doesn't faze Renjun in the slightest — this is high school, he can find fault in people for being fake and toxic, but not for having friends.

It's the former that he does have a problem with.

Slamming his locker door shut, drawing attention to himself in a way that's unfamiliar to him, Renjun does his best to ignore the stares from the people around him and raises an eyebrow at Jaemin. "Hi, Jaemin. Can we talk? There's a bit of a problem with the project."

A crease appears between Jaemin's eyebrows, and Renjun's fingers twitch to smoothen it out. "The project," Jaemin echoes, "Right. I have ten minutes before my next class, if that works?"

Na Jaemin, offering up, instead of his typical gentle rejection, his actual time? Instantly, there's a flurry around them, as people forget to pretend as though they aren't eavesdropping. Which, given that this is a public corridor, seems fair.

"Ten minutes is more than enough," Renjun smiles sharply at Jaemin, before he nods at Jaemin's friends and turns to head to their Bio classroom, which is coincidentally just down the hallway and completely empty. 

As he walks off, he catches Donghyuck saying, in that obnoxiously loud way of his, "Ooh, looks like Jaeminnie's pissed off his pretty boy."

"Shut the fuck up, Hyuck," Jaemin hisses, in a manner that's so hurried and anxious and entirely foreign. It's moments like this one when Renjun realises with a start, that as easy as it is to forget — as easy as Jaemin has made it to forget — Renjun really doesn't know much about Jaemin. He's picked up on Jaemin's unguarded smiles and easy laughs, his rare nervous ticks and his outlets for his pent-up energy. But Renjun doesn't know him with the same familiarity that these boys clearly do.

It's ridiculous, to expect that he could know him that way, but knowing that it's ridiculous doesn't stop Renjun from feeling that way. He hates it, hates that Jaemin makes him feel like this. Hates that Donghyuck's words about him being Jaemin's "pretty boy" only add to the flurry of confusion in his gut, and that Jaemin's rushed denial of those words brings a pang to his chest. Who is Jaemin, to make him feel this way?

As Renjun waits for Jaemin to enter the classroom, and watches as he gently shuts the door behind him, the anxious thrum in his fingertips does not ease, but drains out of him in a way that leaves him feeling cold and fragile. All of a sudden, he's at a loss for words.

Another addition to the list of things Renjun hates — Jaemin has every right to be slightly pissed at Renjun for making a scene and dragging him away like that, but he doesn't look mad. Just curious, and a penchant, concerned.

Then again, Renjun doesn't know much about Na Jaemin. Except for the way he smiles, and laughs, and-

Jaemin waits quietly, as Renjun wrestles these thoughts, leaning against the door as though he knows he should remain silent. As though he knows what Renjun needs. As though he knows everything about Renjun, and exactly how to get under Renjun's guard, and it's absolutely, utterly infuriating. For the first time in weeks, Renjun associates a strong, hateful emotion directly with Na Jaemin — detest.

"Stop," he decides on saying, at last. "Stop being friendly with me in class. It was nice while it lasted, but-" Renjun's under no obligation to explain himself, "I can't do that, anymore. I know I'm not exactly giving you a choice, here, and I know that's a shitty thing to do, but let's just stick to talking about our project, and our project alone."

He gets it all out at one, all the while maintaining eye contact Jaemin. Renjun watches, as his face closes into a mask — not a bare one, because Jaemin's smarter than that. This is a mask of polite acceptance. Renjun detests it.

"I can do that," Jaemin begins, carefully, and Renjun doesn't want to hear another word out of him. 

"Good," he says. Adds on, as an afterthought, "Thank you."

And then Renjun pushes gently past him, and walks to his next class, acutely aware of the fact that in the time it takes him to get to the end of the corridor, Jaemin hasn't left the classroom, yet.

* * *

Life goes on pretty smoothly after that, which only adds to the utter embarrassment Renjun feels when he thinks about how easy to was to let Na Jaemin become the highlight of his day.

Renjun does well in class, plans ahead for assignments, and generally has a peaceful time staying back at the library to mind his own business, not wanting to go back home when his parents return so late.

So, really, everything goes back to normal, except for Bio.

The first Bio class Renjun has after confronting Jaemin that day, he's almost tempted to skip. The key word being almost, because Renjun doesn't run away from things, and like hell Na Jaemin is going to be the cause of yet another change in his attitude.

He walks into the class feeling like he's downed six shots of espresso with how fired up his senses are, acutely aware of the fact that Jaemin isn't here yet, though there's only a minute left until the class starts.

Jaemin slips past the door right as Dr Lee goes to close it, flashing the teacher an apologetic smile and quietly coming to sit beside Renjun. Renjun doesn't know whether to be satisfied or disappointed with the fact that he foregoes his usual greeting, instead just nodding to him with a tight smile.

The rest of the lesson goes excruciatingly slow, and their discussion is the most dry it's been in weeks.

"I can do up the theory bit on the centrifugation," Jaemin says, as the lesson comes to a close, "So we can skip the dilution part, if you want. I only wanted to do it for the extra credit, but the centrifugation theory should be good enough."

"I think it's okay to do both," Renjun says, carefully. "Go big or go home, right?"

"That doesn't seem like a very Huang Renjun kind of sentiment," Jaemins says, with a hint of a smile, "You're supposed to say, fuck capitalism for draining our energy, effort and resources."

Renjun's just about to retort, when Jaemin's eyes widen slightly, and his lips form a silent _'o'_.

"Sorry," he says, quietly, "I forgot." The typical vibrance that there always is to Jaemin is nowhere to be found. 

Renjun swallows down the urge to apologise, for bringing this situation upon them. Instead, he says, "It's okay. I'll send you the draft for the report, and we can go into the lab on our own whenever we're free, so long as we update each other, right?"

"Right," Jaemin nods, eyes still trained on desk beside him.

As Renjun moves to leave the classroom, Jaemin calls out, "Hey, Renjun-ah, will you humour me just this once?"

Renjun stops in his tracks, but doesn't turn around. Taking it as a sign to continue, Jaemin asks, "Why?" He doesn't need to elaborate. 

Giving him the honest answer isn't an option because of three reasons. One, Renjun hasn't admitted it to himself entirely. Two, admitting it to Jaemin first would be far too humiliating, unnecessarily so. And three, Renjun doesn't have to explain his actions or his feelings to anyone.

But Jaemin isn't anyone, so Renjun gives him an explanation, anyway, although it's a false one and Jaemin, with that infuriating perceptiveness of his, will see right through it. "I've come to the angsty, 2013-Tumblr-kid type of conclusion," Renjun says, lightly, "That all humans have an agenda, and being caught up in anyone's agenda is not only weak, but stupid. I pride myself on not being stupid. Don't take it personally, Na, I do this to everyone, haven't you heard?"

If Jaemin were more like Renjun, he would say, _You're being awfully stupid right now_. Instead, he says, "I didn't think you'd be the kind to make sweeping statements, Huang. Not everyone has to have an agenda, you know."

At the end of the day, it's always that damn smile in his voice that makes Renjun turn to him, in the way sunflowers turn to the sun. And Jaemin, Jaemin seems to bloom at this, radiant in a way Renjun has ridiculously missed over the past few days.

Jaemin's smirk tilts to the right, far too cheeky and amused for his own good. But Renjun can't bring himself to care, not when Jaemin's looking at him like that. Not if he'll keep looking at him like that. 

"And you?" Renjun challenges. "You're saying you don't have an agenda?"

Jaemin puts his hands up in mock surrender, smirk growing into a full-blown grin. He’s only slightly breathtaking. "Well, I do," he admits, teasing, "I don’t usually flirt with all my partners for projects. Just the cute ones. And in case you’re going to continue being an oblivious, sensitive prick about it,” Jaemin's tone is chiding as it is gentle, “I mean you, and you alone.”

It should be humiliating how well Jaemin has read him, and it is, in part, infuriating that Renjun can’t say the same for Jaemin himself.

But just like that, all is forgiven.

Just like that, Jaemin destroys any chance of this ever being a fleeting thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huang Renjun is an introvert who gives off scary vibes but is honestly just a tired student who falls in love easily. I love writing characters who fall easily! It’s a great coping mechanism to project my feelings onto them.
> 
> All joking aside, I hope the pace at which Renjun is slowly enchanted by Jaemin isn’t too fast or unbelievable. I think it’s a very valid feeling to be undeniably attracted to someone, being aware that you are, but choosing not to acknowledge it. There’s so many different ways to characterise Renjun, all of which I hope to explore in different future universes, but this is who I feel he is in this one. 
> 
> Hope you liked this one!

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said 10k for the first chapter, but I felt like I should split it up for a better flow. Updates will only get longer after this, so it's better to start smaller, right?
> 
> I update monthly, but I also work best under pressure, so feel free to leave comments asking me for updates (though other writers may not be comfortable with that!), and [here](https://twitter.com/apsaranyas) is my twitter. If badgered, I might get one out every fortnight. Please kindly give me motivation if you would like to!
> 
> In all seriousness, thank you so much for giving this fic a chance, and I hope you’ve liked it so far.


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